stealhearted | after me comes the flood;

[He makes the first familiar face he's made since he walked in-- scowling, though its muted. He leaves his wrist butted up to Akira's, sucking down the rest of his coffee.] I still can't understand it. Ignoring that I was fathered by trash, your parents seem to display no real reason to neglect you this way.

[A beat, and he shrugs his shoulders, only shifting away from Akira's wrist in favor of picking up a pen.] But I suppose in a roundabout way, I'm thankful. I never would have met you without their disservice.

Coming to Tokyo was probably the best thing that's ever happened to me. [ In both realities, for a lot of reasons. He remembers when he first arrived and he'd been so determined to try and stay out of trouble, and he'd had exactly one second thought before Arsene had bubbled up from his soul to mock him for the very idea of it all.

He reaches for the feeling of Arsene, almost automatically: he can still feel the persona within him, even if he can't summon him in the real world. It's comforting, in a way, even if it doesn't seem like the Phantom Thieves exist at all in this world.

He wonders how they're all friends. ]

You want me to quiz you on anything? [ Akira offers it, because helping Akechi study feels infinitely safer than trying to do this awkward alternate reality dance. ]

[He makes a thoughtful sound, shuffling his papers and eventually holding one out toward Akira with his right hand.] Randomize the information here and just ask me about it, it's what I'm the least confident in.

[ So Akira does, because it's easier to do this -- the rhythm of asking a question and watching Akechi either instantly recall it, or briefly think about the answer before he gives the correct one -- than it is to think about everything else that's going on. He'll work on figuring everything else out, later, but for now he'll let himself enjoy things, just a little.

God, Akechi's going to stab him in the kidney once he wakes up from this. He can practically hear him now, demanding to know what Akira was thinking not immediately trying to fix the delusion, to fix reality, to stop Akechi from being happy--

Yeah, it's an ugly problem that Akira calmly decides he's not going to deal with. He quizzes Akechi until Sojiro calls him to help, and then he watches Akechi leave and he goes to figure out what's going on, alone.

Which leads him to Odaiba, and then Kasumi, and then to Maruki, where he finds out the truth and watches Kasumi -- Sumire -- get yanked away from him. By tentacles. Because that's normal and cool.

So Akira figures he has to try and do something, even if it's just rescuing Kas...umire from being the main character in a horrible ero series. And Akechi's the strongest fighter he knows, so Akira scrolls through his phone through all their past text conversations that he has no memory of having (because he didn't) until he finds an address.

He shows up the next day, primed and ready to tell Akechi that everything is fake and that he needs to wake up, and knocks on the door. ]

[His address is the same condo he lived in alone under Shido's paychecks, ironically. Maybe the address itself was too much for Maruki to change, or not something he cared about, or-- maybe it was just part of his plan, to inject Akechi's happiness into the place he had lived in for the last two years that was only somewhere he sometimes went to sleep a few hours. Whether or not Akira had ever been there prior was a toss-up, but the space was the same, same number and floor, just reconfigured with a second bedroom that his mother lived in. He had lived in this condo with her since he was born, and as a result, in this timeline he called it home, something he never would have even thought of calling it prior.]

[Regardless, a slender, pretty-faced woman who looks approximately like a female Akechi with much longer hair opens the door. She startles only briefly, more in surprise of seeing Akira turn up unannounced than anything, and her hands clasp together in front of her as she greets him.] Oh, Akira-kun! It's good to see you. Goro's asleep-- he was researching universities late into last night and had something he went and did this morning, came home and I found him asleep on the couch. Come in-- I'll make you both tea, he'll be happy to see you.

[ Some part of Akira forgot that she'd be there. He'd thought it would be Akechi at the door. Maybe an Akechi that had already woken up to the reality being so wrong; maybe he'd greet Akira with a scathing insult even as he let him inside, the same way he'd been vitriolic even while he'd worked with them to defeat God himself.

So it takes Akira's breath away, a little, to see this woman who looks so much like Akechi, to see that the condo inside is cozy. It isn't the barebones minimalism he's come to expect from Akechi -- he can see photos on the wall, furniture, decorations. A hundred items from a life that Akechi never lived.

But he's living it now, isn't he? Akira wonders how different it is. He wonders if he can even call this Akechi the same Akechi. Maruki had challenged him to see if anyone else would pick this reality, and the longer Akira spends the more he thinks they might. ]

Ah... yes, ma'am. He's been studying at Leblanc, so I brought him some coffee. [ Akira holds a thermos up. The coffee had been calculated: if it was the same Akechi from yesterday, it'd be a nice gesture; if it was the normal acerbic Akechi he was used to, it'd be a peace offering.

He steps inside when she allows it, and Akira toes his shoes off automatically, trying not to stare at the fact that the condo seems so... inviting. ]

[It's startlingly homely. Most of the decor is in shades of a light steely blue and hunter greens, with pops of yellow here and there. Goro's mother, it seemed, really liked sunflowers. She was dressed surprisingly modestly for what at least one of her professions was or had been, a long navy skirt tied at her waist and a lighter blue blouse tucked into it. She tuts softly when she moves aside to let Akira into the condo, shaking her head.]

Oh, don't you ma'am me. Sweet or salty, for a snack? I promise I didn't cook them. [Her cooking is-- she tries, but she suffers from Set The Kitchen On Fire Syndrome similarly to her son, and therefore usually relies on pre-packaged and frozen meals.]

[Her son, for the record, is slumped in a neat little pile in the very middle of a couch a few shades lighter than his hair, but the same honeyed brown color. There's a thin blanket laid over him, and papers as well as his laptop strewn all over the coffee table in front of him. His feet are still on the floor, and it looks for all the world like he just fell asleep mid-thought. He probably did. He was so much less guarded, here.]

Sweet, thank you. [ Akira says it almost automatically, because he knows Akechi likes sweets -- perhaps not the over the top ones he'd done for his blog, but even in this alternate world, he'd periodically sent Akira pictures of the ones he'd get from local, less trafficked cafes and bakeries.

Akira can't help the way he looks at Akechi. He looks -- relaxed and vulnerable. It'd be normal for him to look that way when asleep, but this Akechi clearly doesn't suffer from the chronic lack of sleep and nightmares that Akira knows for a fact plague Akechi under normal circumstances. ]

He'll have to sleep more if he wants to test well. [ Akira says, a little wryly, because he doubts Akechi will ever, in any reality, be capable of sleeping a normal human amount. ]

[She smiles at him-- you're not slick, Akira. But she doesn't say anything, just went into the kitchen and produces a small basket that she fills with cookies, setting it on the table alongside Akechi's papers.] He doesn't sleep enough, he always says he wants to get more done while he's awake.

[She circles around the table and sits near his head, reaching out to run her fingers through his hair.] Goro, honey, you have company.

[He curls into the blanket and proceeds to make a squashed sound in the back of his throat, stretching out and rolling onto his back to stare at his mother blearily. When he notices Akira he startles, and sits upright a fair amount faster than he probably should have.] Akira--, you didn't tell me you-- did I forget something? Were we meeting somewhere... [His mother laughs, getting up and going back to the kitchen for their tea.]

I brought coffee. [ Akira offers, holding up the thermos. He sets it down on the coffee table, trying to pretend like this sleepy, innocent Akechi isn't one of the strangest things he's ever seen.

It's... wrong, he thinks; his Akechi is a murderer (his would-be murderer). He'd never be this calm and relaxed. Akechi is always primed for betrayal, for pain, for everyone to get tired of him -- even though the Phantom Thieves have continued to (begrudgingly, in some cases) forgive him and treat him like a normal person. ]

I thought you might have stayed up too late again. [ Which is -- apt, apparently. There's a bit of Akechi's hair that's sticking up off to the side, and Akira blames the cognitive dissonance, blames Maruki, for the fact that he reaches out automatically to tug it back into place. ]

[His slow boot-up time remains in tact in this reality, and he scrunches his face, stretching his shoulders upward like a cat before going very still when Akira's hand corrects his hair's unruliness.]

[His face dusts pink, and he reaches up to tuck some of his hair behind his ear.] Y-yes, well. I did well on the mock exam, so I figured a smart next step would be knowing the ins and outs of the universities I'd like to try for. I got caught up taking notes and memorizing floor plans and schedules for future-student orientations...

You know, you're running the risk of being too perfect. [ Not that Akira thinks anyone has ever minded Akechi being too perfect -- in their normal reality, the population is eager to put him on a gilded pedestal. Akira never did that, he thinks, but he likes all of Akechi's flaws.

Or he thought he did. Maruki's words ring in his head, chasing his thoughts in circles. Did Akira want this? Did he want this de-fanged Akechi? How much of this happiness was real?

He came to ask Akechi questions. He has to, he thinks, even though he feels his willpower drifting away. ]

You could be a detective, with how detail-oriented you are. [ It's dangerous, Akira thinks. ]

[The pink on his face sears scarlet, and he flusters, moving to shift his papers into a neater pile.] I'm far from perfect, Akira-- what, did you fail a test somehow and need a study buddy? You don't have to butter me up for that.

[The detective comment makes him turn sharply, his expression leaning slightly into the sharpness Akira is more used to, but then it smooths back out until he looks confused, like he didn't consciously angle his body the way he had. He can't seem to quite remember what Akira said, either.] I--'m sorry, what did you say?

[His mother comes back into the room, a tray and two mugs of tea held in her hands, which she places individually on either side of the basket of cookies. Akechi looks bewildered for a handful of seconds, first at her and then the cookies, like he's misplaced, and then he blinks and fits back into his skin, reaching out for a mug.] You should have woken me up sooner, mom.

[ Akira sees it because he's watching, because he's so finely attuned to Akechi that he can practically hear the way his mind skips over the input. Does it mean that Akechi doesn't want to remember, doesn't want to break the spell that Maruki has cast?

Should Akira leave it alone? He's never been very good at that. ]

You're pretty perfect. I bet your locker overflows with presents on Valentine's like in one of those old anime. [ This Akechi must attend school considerably more often, so his popularity must be even higher, Akira thinks. Sure, he isn't famous across the entirety of Tokyo, but...

Akira accepts the mug when Akechi's mother offers it, pretending to think. ]

I'm up against some stiff competition. [ When in doubt, flirt. ]

[His mother smiles, broadly but in a secretive sort of way, and smooths her skirt as she stands up and reclaims the tray.

[Akechi's ears burn absolutely fluorescent, in the meantime, and his mother speaks so he doesn't have to figure out what to say.] You boys have fun, okay? I'm going to clean up the kitchen and then go see Muhen. Goro, you're off tonight, so remember to take it easy, okay? You two should go to that bathhouse near Akira's cafe.

[He nods, still stunned, and claims his own mug, crossing one leg over the other the way he always has. His mother tuts and is off, and Akechi doesn't figure out how to talk again until she's hollering a pleasant salutation as she leaves the condo. When he does, it's quiet and directed at his mug.]

...it's not... competition.

[ Akechi takes it so seriously that Akira doesn't know how to handle it. He thought he was steering them towards less dangerous waters, but he's still operating on what the old Akechi would have done -- and the old Akechi always deferred to his detective prince persona when any flirting happened, imperious and above everything.

But this Akechi -- his ears are pink and he's so serious into his tea, refusing to even make eye contact like Akira has just landed a critical hit, and it takes Akira's breath away.

It's like meeting someone entirely new, this alternate Akechi that could have been. Should have been, maybe. ]

Um. [ Akira doesn't know how to get out of this one, actually. ]

...yeah? [ And then he just takes a too big sip of his tea and burns his tongue, like an idiot. ]

[He puts his mug down and fusses, tsking softly and claiming Akira's mug, too. He sets it on the table, near his own, and stays sitting right up next to him, trying to put words together into proper sentences. He's taking this so seriously because to this Akechi, it is serious. It's possibly The Most Serious. He frowns at their mugs, and then sighs, oozing sideways to lean against the back of the couch and tugging Akira's shoulder, coaxing him to come along.]

...mom says we should date. She always has, always does, makes a big deal about it because you're so important to me. She says she's never seen me be so close to someone. It means a lot to her, I think, but I just... I don't want it to be just that? I can't... you're so important, I don't know that I could do right by you in that regard.

[ Suddenly, Akira thinks things might have been easier when he was faking his death and Akechi thought he'd murdered him. Which is funny, because that was incredibly complicated. ]

...I'm not going anywhere. [ Akira says it, a little carefully, because he's -- not, in this world, in their own world. They had struck a truce originally, on the ship -- to overthrow Shido and then God -- and that truce still stands, even though Akira knows for a fact that Akechi has been considering taking out the remaining members of the conspiracy until someone finally manages to kill him.

So really, Akira has never been the one in any danger of going anywhere. ]

I wouldn't want you to do something because you felt like you had to. But I -- [ What is he doing? He's confessing to a fake version of Akechi in a reality he knows isn't real, one that he has to end. One that he has to end. He has to. Doesn't he? ]

-- I wouldn't say no, if you wanted to.

No, of course you aren't.

[He finds Akira's hand, tugs on one of his fingers absently.] I'll be in university, soon. I don't know which, yet, but... it might not be in the area. And no, you can't drop everything and come with me like we're some kind of star-crossed lovers in one of Takamaki's romance novels.

[He folds his knees up to his chest.] Mom really cares about you too, I was going to ask you to look after her, if I wind up in a school that's not in Tokyo.

[ Akira watches Akechi's hand. His skin is the same milky pale that it always has been, but it doesn't seem like he's nearly as inclined to keep them behind gloves.

Akira assumes that's a bit of a metaphor, but it hurts to think about. ]

I don't know if I'll be able to stay in Tokyo. [ Akira says it like he couldn't just go to Maruki and say -- hey, can you make sure this happens for my happiness? He says it like it's an actual obstacle. He doesn't know why.

He wants it to be real, maybe. ]

...But I'd come back for university. If I -- if I couldn't stay with Sojiro, I'd need... a roommate.

You aren't just meaning that in the sense we would live together to attend university and save on living expenses.

[His straightforwardness is no different, at least.]

...Yeah. It'd -- be nice to have something to come back to. [ It isn't that he doesn't have that already -- the rest of the Phantom Thieves, or whatever they are in this world -- but he's always wanted Akechi. He's always wanted Akechi, and this Akechi is so -- warm, and content, and easy.

It feels wrong, but Akira wants to drown in it a little longer. He moves his hand, slightly, lets his fingertips fall into Akechi's palm. ]

Something to keep me going if I do have to go home.

[His fingers curl around Akira's immediately, and he sits forward to lean into his line of sight.] ...I don't know if I'll still be in Tokyo, I-- really can't be that picky about universities. I just need prestige and a good program, preferably with as many scholarships as I can manage... [He squeezes Akira's fingers.] I don't even know what I want to do, Akira. You can't plot your future around me.

I don't know what I want to do, either. [ Akira says it a little too heavily, a little too rushed -- Akechi can think it's about his future with probation, or his record, or his parents, so long as Akechi doesn't realize it's about the current delusion everyone but Akira seems to be under the influence of.

It's all truer than he wants it to be. But Akira also knows without a shadow of a doubt, because he's already talked with Maruki --]

You could get into Todai, if you wanted to. You're smart enough -- I don't think scholarships will be a problem for you. Not really. You could go into -- [ Not law enforcement, not detective work, not television; Akira's mind stumbles briefly. ] -- medicine, or law, or... I don't know, spaceship engineering.

I just want to run a coffee shop.

[His expression shifts, and he leans a little further into Akira's vision.]

...Akira, what is this really about? You're not usually so pressed about these things.

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